I want to thank the lovely Lightning Goddess Diana,
for coming around again. This time she was so far beyond awesome and
dazzling, words fail me totally. Colors, fractal patterns, bolts
swirling around in the skies, in-between the clouds, some lovely
ribbon bolts, beyond hot gorgeous CTG bolts in utter soul shocking
combos of bright colors. I cannot tell HER how much SHE did for me
over the past two nights, but really on this most recent night. YOU
ARE MY BABY-BLOND LOVE, precious sweet Diana.
Good
day to you all; kind wonderful people out here. Sorry for my recent
outbursts, again. I have really gone through a trying period
recently. It is off all dials and all scales that I know of for
making any possible comparison to other such sieges and attacks from
my enemies of the MILI-2-FORCE. Still I'm sorry for going on such
wild super rants. Thank you for staying with me, and baring with me,
and my BOM; the 'Mountainpen'.
These blog
formats are going to alter; maybe permanently, if it goes well with
my viewing public. If not, it can revert right back again. What I
plan doing is simply this: I will have subjects, these may be
dropped, maybe be brought back and maybe not, new ones may be added,
and there will be a NEW BUSINESS section as well. Nothing to do with
business, merely take this to mean, please; that a new topic may
start up, and then more additions to it may be added, or not. Just
about all new chapters of all blogs will however have a NEW BUSINESS
section, just for discussing new stuff that no existing space on the
sectional-blog would have a proper place for the inclusion of this
section. You'll see as it goes along, so don't sweat it if you are
not getting all of this. I don't have the knowledge for making the
blog look like a newspaper, and so you will read it almost in the
same format as those blogs now done by me. But it will be in
sections. A small part of me thinks the majority of you out here,
after getting used to the change; will be able to appreciate these
blogs more, and also, enjoy them more. All the sections will have a
section-code, consisting of two letters and two digits, scrambled in
no perfect or same way. Anyone that wishes to anonymously leave a
rating on a section code, please use this method. Use the comment
feature at where I post my blogs to, the BLOGGER-SITE. Click the no
comments line after the end
of the blog, or if it does say there are any comments, and after this
is clicked, just type in the section code, and then the rating you
give it. This way, I can hopefully some day, continue to improve my
blogs and make them more reader-friendly and less stuff on them that
is not liked, and more stuff on them that are liked. Please rate in a
way I am used to, from doing this years and years on a life-chart
system. I would rate my days from 1-5, one being the lowest and worst
possible day, 3 would be in the middle, and the best rating would be
the 5. The 2 would be like a low middle rating, while the 4 would be
like a high middle rating. Here is an example. Let us say that I have
been going on for a week or so, on a topic of being more specific
about what exploratrons do most often, and then I take us into more
details of areas not ever explored along that line with any real
regular writings. At the top of the blarticle, a word I make up now
for 'BLOG-ARTICLE', I always will assign it a 2-2 alpha/numeric code
so a rater can refer to it and then place a comma or a hyphen and
then add their rate number of between a lowest-1 to a highest-5. So
in my example here, I assign it code 'D5J8'. You would click in the
comment box at the end of the blog, and type in, merely, let's say
you for whatever reason are rating it so-so, and down the middle; so
you wish to give it a rating of 3; D5J8,
3.
If
the blog has ten blarticles in it, and you wish to comment on none,
then you don't click at all into the comment box. If there are three
blarticles you wish to rate, in numbers from 1-5, simply follow the
simple directions, just given. One by one, enter the code, put a
comma or a hyphen or however you wish to separate, and then add in
your rating number. Then put a period, space it, and do your next
one, and your next one. Rate them all, rate none, but this will still
be done for a while. It is not being done to get more interactive
activity on the blog although that would indeed be a nice side
benefit. It is being done however, as I feel this is going to be a
major improvement, and now with a ten year running blog project,
almost; and a small following, that has hit me well over 80 thousand
times, all combined; I just feel I'd like to alter my format now for
a while as a test case, in a way that should provide the
reader/viewer; with a definitely improved reading experience over the
long run. If not, we can always go back to how things were without
singing any of Streisand's songs, about her memories, and how things
once were for her!!!!!!!!!!! You may not even see that big of a
visual difference in the beginning, the main reason for this being, I
don't know how to make it appear two dimensional like a real on-line
newspaper, with articles crossing both over and down. Things will
look pretty much the same, but as I go on with this, you will begin
to see how I will have topics and for a while, they will have a
heading from an original blog post, then they will have updated
continuations and add- ons, that further detail the writing; like a
soap opera moving ever forward. It will also have the coded assigned
number for a rater to reference the blarticle, right up at the top,
next to the HEADING TITLE. For example: Exploratrons
on educational missions only-- CODE--L92J.
Hay
we'll try this for a while, and if the magic doesn't click; then
we'll scrap it. No harm done. And maybe it will increase my view
count. Who can ever know? Still, Terry Egghead from the Jersey
Harbors, who referred to me as the Scatter-Brain Blogger after seeing
my way of operating; would most definitely favor my new approach over
my original blog project outline. Hurray for her!
THIS
IS CHAPTER 67, AND
YOU
ARE READING THE BLOG,
'HALLS
WALLS'
APRIL
19, 2015,
EARLY
SUNDAY MORNING AT 2:47,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA.
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 72 DEGREES FNHT.
RANGE
TODAY-------(H-73/L-72).
HUMIDITY
IS 94%. IT FEELS LIKE 76 DEGREES.
WIND
IS SE AT WITH GUSTS TO .
CALM
SE WINDS ARE GUSTING TO 4.
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Traffic Sources
Audience |
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JANE
FUCKING WHORE JUST NAILED ME WITH HER ONES FUCKING ATTACK, ON PAGE
ELEVEN OF ELEVEN. SO LET ME COMPENSATE PLEASE,
FOLKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
5555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555
SAILING
WITH MUSIC MAN CHRIS CROSS--CODE--R2J7
Without
sailing away in 1980 with Chris Cross, or any other wild folks in the
great music bizz, let's see if I can't say a few things that might
set things on their ear and their asshole. Let's just see what we can
do hear, in a short period of no time! AHA-AHA MMCN! The story to me
and music would require a Harvard and a Yale education, all the way
up to Doctorate Degrees; I assure you all. I have told a few things
such as Dave's drums and his dead Cadillac car, and some others with
both him and me. My latest musical debokle being the shutting down of
the Avalon Studio; the only place local to me. Still, we'll be
getting into some things I really feel the need to blow some sheet
covers off of, no matter who ends up discovered all naked in the dam
beds. Uh-oh Shark-shit Maco. Go paint a car.
HOLY
SHIT, THE MARKET IS WAY LOWER THAN I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE!
DAWN'S
ESCAPE CAPER OF 7-11-08—CODE
6L2P
I
would bet that Einstein
himself,
if he was in Dawn's shoes, and in her situation; could
not have pulled this off; and he is supposed to be Mister MIND the
great. And
I would also bet right now, double or nothing; that he
would not have been able to do this; and I would put up and risk
every last penny in my bank account, and that is not much;
but it will help me pay my car insurance, and eat a few more meals
this month. All of a sudden; Dawn gets her
hands on a magic lotion potion.
She rubs it all over her body, and 12 hours later; she is legally
declared contagious,
with
some undiagnosable skin condition; and must leave the rehab-program,
and this not being ''her fault'', her lawyer was then able to
successfully argue her case, and get the prison sentence that was
hanging over her, for non-compliance of the year at the REHAB CLINIC;
made
null and void;
and suddenly, there comes a knock at my trailer door, on the eleventh
night in July, in 2008. It is Dawn's husband Lewis Laines, (Chicky)
as he insisted on that nickname, and with him, mommy-Ann; and they
said, Mark, you need to go to bed and stop your blogs, as you need to
be over at our place at 7 in the morning, we are picking up my
daughter at the Seacaucus Rehab Clinic. I knew deep down inside, I
was a dead man, just like Walking Mike Patterson Vampire, down in
Miami. A few nights before this all went down, my mom appeared to me
in a 'dream' and we were all in a dollar-store, my mom and I, and
Dawn, and her mom Ann King. In
the early nineteen eighties,
more happened to me than just inventing a wild new music machine that
put the Moog
Synthesizer
into a dinosaur cave forever and ever. Within the range of two years
of this invention, called, ''KEYBOARDS FROM PETAHELL'', that was
never talked about, and kept secret from all my coworkers, friends,
enemies, associates, and you name it; because of its unexplainable
side effects, and my fear to share the story; as who would believe 90
or more percent of it; was what my mind was thinking. For about five
and a half years since middle two thousand eight, I have tried to tie
things together regarding the August 1986 quick light-switch
alteration of my life, in a period of hours and without any possible
rational explanation; and all that could ever be thought of regarding
all of this horrible nightmare, was that reality must exist in other
places that the mind visits and that so fat humankind is not aware of
this truth, and still just calls this dreams and dreaming, and those
in charge of mind and mental health remain clueless to where mind
really comes from and what it truly is, still to this very present
day in 2014. I began to know that after soul searching and talking to
experts of many fields, that my only possible explanation had to be
right, and the Marola Syndrome kicked in, the odds of such a thing
being far beyond winning lotteries in the hundreds of millions of
dollars or being struck five times by lightning, and along this line.
Here was a teacher of mine telling me repeatedly that one must always
go with the majority, as by doing this, you will at least be assured
of life being right for you more than it will be wrong. It sounds
wonderful on its face, but as with so many things in this imperfect
ugly world, just when you need your particular philosophy to kick in
and help you through a bad spot in your life, boom, it fails you
miserably and you crash hard onto the floor, bloody and mortally
wounded. No one would believe that I had the only answer that could
fit this situation of waking up on the fifteenth of August in 1986 to
an entirely new and hellish monstrous life, with no rational logical
other way of seeing it or explaining it, absolutely none at all. I
went to sleep, and the only thing that can explain what happened is
that when we sleep and dream, we are in a parallel universe, in
energy form, or M=C/SQ. This is the precise mathematical inverse of a
world famous formula, by Professor Einstein of the Princeton
University of New Jersey. Now before moving this on to where it
counts, we will need a comparison point, so here it is. Every day we
all get up and go through the day, some good shit happens, some bad
shit happens, and plenty of in-between stuff happens. The sun comes
up and it goes down, day after day after bloody day, in or out of
jolly old great England! But one day somewhere in the future, our
sun, a normal average star in outer space, AKA ''the expansion'',
will no longer operate the same way, and will begin to grow larger
and hotter and the world will not exist any more. This is a long way
off, so seeing this absolute eventuality but in its proper
perspective, is very necessary for me to now continue discussing
1986, and what happened to me on the night that changed my life
forever. We all go into dreams, and many do not remember our dreams,
but they effect our lives whether we remember any of this dream life
at all, or not. And should some incredible thing happen in one of
these dreams, it could be like the day the sun no longer works the
way that we all have become so accustomed to its normal behavior for
so very long. Instead of the whole world beginning to grow hotter and
slowly watch humankind and Earth dissolve away, it was only one
person that was so adversely effected. This would be me. I may not be
dissolving away, but my entire life totally changed overnight, and I
might as well have awakened in a world that slowly was melting and
dying, as I have been doing just that, in a cosmic way, ever since,
for almost 28 years now. Just because this very rare thing happened
to me on this one particular night, it was because
of a DREAM EXPERIENCE,
and this particular one did
indeed, DESTROY THE REMAINDER OF MY
ENTIRE LIFE.
This is reality, and 1000 'shrinkologists' can all laugh at me and
tell me I am totally incorrect, my life and my experience with this,
lets me know without a shadow of doubt, that I am right, and all of
these experts who think they know so much, are all wrong. So on blogs
to shortly follow, I am going to tell the long and beyond
unfathomable bizarre tale of this
DREAM, that I indeed awoke out of to begin this NEW-LIFE, of post
AUGUST 15, 1986;
that my 8 years of these blogs have discussed quite negatively, over
and over and over again!!!!!!!!!!!!
Dave
Roth said it so many times that I literally nauseated and sick to
death of hearing it, but each time he spoke it, it was no less of the
fucking truth, these incidents totally prove the reality that indeed,
and to quote him now, ''WATER SEEKS ITS OWN LEVEL''!!!!!!!!!!!!
Here
we go, it is another day now, at just past four in the afternoon,
Sunday on 19 April, rainy, putrid-ass hot and steamy; and the dam
computer tried to freeze up and crash again; after being better
twelve hours ago, and thus allowing me to start this next blog. This
computer is fucking crashing again, BOB FCC MCDOWELL. This is totally
criminal, YO! I sure hope that your daughter is more well behaved
than mine is; if you are all gray haired with one of your own that
ism old Cooley Hall Hell pal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
never said that just because 1969, 1980, and 1994 were the three best
mother fucking years of my life, that they did not all contain some
negatives, some really wild shit, and much much much much more,
lively 1984 Ingrid!!!!!!!!!!!!! Taking the year 1980 as an example,
things happened that at the time were not all bad, but later on, they
developed into BEING REALLY BAD. Nobody is born a grown person. We
are born as a baby, and 20 years later, we are grown. Now some things
as well as people, take some time to develop into what they were
meant to be when fully realized, all along. The incident with the
dude who I refereed to as ''Sarah Krassee's brother'', and some know
the long story behind the non regular spelling of the last name.
Others do not, and there is no time now, to get into this; but it is
the same person, spelled anyway that you would like it spelled. Now
this incident with this dude from hell in 1980 while on my to work at
the RPL Recording Studio for my 4:30 PM through 1:00 AM work shift,
is not something that needed to grow, but was bad from the get go.
Still, the June Lois Foca dream, the Lottery Cat Gawky Gaukauk and
his DIE DIE DIE number 495, as well as the demo tunes and many more
things, had what sales folks call, major sleeper effects. But when
they all started to arise from their great slumbers, they slowly took
me into the land called COSMIC-HELL. This merely did not actualize
into my full consciousness until the morning of August 15, 1986. no I
did not imagine certain things early in 2009, and I am not going to
talk about that further other than to say I am a sound-man; and I
knew I was not imagining what I heard after buying something at a
store. In any event,life is super ultra monster ass complex, and is
it not funny gee, not funny ha-ha, but funny gee, how humankind has
spoken those words so often, that ''THE DEVIL IS IN THE DETAILS'',
not for the most part, or maybe for any part, understanding just how
totally profound this little saying really was all of these mother
fucking years. Maybe I should have put many of these clues together,
you know, my Aunt's father the planetarium man of the Franklin
Institute, 401 Virginia Avenue in NORTH Atlantic City over at the
Feast-On ACMUA, parents questioning why things were done to
daughters, when not being sung to by them, the Atlantic City Medical
Center that evolved into the Atlanticare place where in the future,
the entire city in many places in hyperspace, comes to be renamed to
Atlantica, with the two missing letters of re in reverse order is an
abbreviation for ENERGENCY ROOM, and how the entire nightmare stems
from much further back than 1986 and the lab technician not named
POLE, CALLIO, or MCGUIRE, yet these hyperspace travelers have
demonstrated to me just how many miracles they can pull off, more
than enough to get them all canonized, but this family already has
officially been there and done that, symbolically; so shut the fuck
up please, Mike McNulty, and thank you in advance, old 1971
buddy!!!!!
RIP---RIP---RIP---RIP---RIP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
APRIL
19, 2015,
LATE
SUNDAY AFTERNOON, AT 4:17,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 84 DEGREES FNHT.
HUMIDITY
IS 57%, AND IT IS FEELING LIKE 94.
RANGE
TODAY--------(H-88/L-69).
WIND
555555555555555555555555555555555
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMAGNESONIC;
WIPE OUT AND DESTROY ALL MY ENEMIES, OR BE TOTALLY DESTROYED
YOURSELF. I COMMAND YOU TO OBEY ME. ALL ORDERS, ALL TECHNOLOGIES.
YES,
REST IN PEACE, THANK YOU VERY MUCH, DAWN-MARIE KING!!!!!!!!!! And
thank you for not calling
the
Board of Health on me
back then, Joan
Larosa;
in good old dam ass 1970. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!
My
computer has been virus hacked. Until I can get to the FCC and the
FBI, I may have to do my blogs the way I did a long time ago, simple,
bland, and mother fucking shitty, with lots of mother fucking great
cuss words!
My days in
Oaklyn, New Jersey, at Dellway Arms Apartment, prepared me for many
things, Mister Jehovah's Witnesses Woodside, but not for all of this
mother fucking shit, YO! No Joan Larosa, my great upstairs nabe
before Bob Backer and his wife moved in a pigged the place up beyond
possible description, but no, I do not have TB or consumption. Just
exposure to the great TRINITRAIL of December, and other supernatural
esoteric paranormal mother fuckiGN shit, YO!
Maybe someday, I
can RIP along with great DAWN-MARIE
KING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
UPSETTING
THE DEAD—CODE 38TQ
In
the summer of 1986, I went into a cemetery near the Shore Mall, just
outside and west of the world famous resort Atlantic City, New
Jersey; on my way either to or from a casino trip, as back in these
days, I was gambling professionally at the casinos, and averaging a
grand weekly clear profit, JJ. When I went into this place, I shouted
out to all the 'dead' in there, “You lucky people”. I may have
said a few other things, and most definitely used some nasty choice
word adjectives as well. Then I left. This was in-between the night I
saw my daughter in Manhattan when she was sixteen, and the time I
actually sent Real Good Girl, the song, down to the United States
Copyright Office, on 15 August, in 1986. How can I ever know whether
it was because I used that sympathetic magic mountain Dew bottle
smash down on Long Beach Island, the cemetery shouting at the dead,
or the sending of the RGG song, that ultimately went on to change my
life into a scene cast straight from the infernos of hellfire? Maybe
all three things culminated and commingled into what caused me all
this nightmare fuckiGN hell, again, who can ever know such fucking
stuff, BRAH????? With or without any rated code comments, this topic
WILL INDEED be discussed further along, as my blogs keep going, that
is until I shortly come to join my Shore Mall Cemetery
friends!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Maybe this is why that fuckiGN super ass
annoying death angel is buzzing around me all the time. I seem to be
one of the very few he picks on or that is able to hear him. I do
know, at age six in Quakertown, I talked regularly with one dead boy
my age, and once to a dead girl my age. One told me he came from
Sahasra Dal Kanwal, he used the more appropriate mortal word,
'HEAVEN'. The girl, she just wanted me to stop a 'merry'-go-round and
let her ride with me for a while. We did not talk much, but looking
back, I know now how fuckiGN sensitive I have always been. The sense
of FEEL is what is either normal or under or over exaggerated with
people, there is no sixth sense, merely the feel sense in higher
tune. Yeah, a merry-go-round, and it wasn't even Halloween, or time
for three music projects in 1994, 2005, and 2007. Boy have I been
mother fucking played, by the powerful Astral-Plane
GODS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! JEEEEEEEEEEEZ-LOUISE Fonty and Twinbay,
YO.
YES
GREAT DAWN, REST IN LOVELY HEAVENLY PEACE, IF YOU CAN. WE BOTH KNOW
YOU ARE NOT EVER GOING TO REST AFTER WHAT YOU AND YOUR HORRIBLE
FAMILY HAVE DONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
YEAH
I KNOW, DENNIS SNYER, ''THAT'S JUST REALITY, SON''!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
TEN
TIMES FREAKING OVER, TOO, SO WOW!!!!
Better
not pout, Merry. Patty says next Halloween is cool, WEEEEEEEEEE!
Hold
the fucking MAYO, they want too much for their medical sandwiches,
YO.
Well,
I am going to go choke on all of this, Donald J. Trump!!!!!!!!!!!!
See you over at Cheltenham high, YO. SHEEEEEEEEEEIT.
I
need some quality care, but hold the dam mayo, I am a poor man. Screw
me, the poor don';t count for squat in this nation, President
Bearhugs, we both know that, my friend!!!!!!!!!
SILLWEE ME AND SILWEE WABBIT, I THOUGHT PEOPLE MIGHT JUST CARE!!!!!!!!!
My
life is one big fat ass fucking hell.
OH
BOY, THRILL AND JOY, AND ANGELS AND MINISTERS OF GRACE DEFEND US
MCCOY. HAMLET AND SHAKESPEARE; YOU JUST CAN'T BEAT
IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well
folks, I am hungry and tire
d,
and need to relax with soup and sandwich and a little fucking TV.
Move over Ronald Reagan and MC!
THIS
PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW.
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